


Drinks on You?

by Supreme_Distraction



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Biting, Cunnilingus, Cute Ending, Drunken Confessions, F/F, Femslash, Lesbian Sex, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Vaginal Fingering, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:53:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25041202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supreme_Distraction/pseuds/Supreme_Distraction
Summary: "You've got everything a woman could want: you're attractive, intelligent, confident, kind, and loyal. If only you were a man..."But who needs men, anyway?
Relationships: Manuela Casagranda/Catherine
Kudos: 23





	Drinks on You?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a commission for GrimGrave over at FFN. I'm posting it here with their gracious permission.

"Men."

The woeful utterance didn't gain the attention of the employees in the Bounding Elk Tavern as they were accustomed to Manuela's drunken lamentations. If anything, it was their cue to cut her off for the night. Business was slow that night, anyway, and she wasn't harming anyone.

The doors swung open and in came a few road worn knights from monastery. They, too, were a regular sight around town and the barkeep was quick to line the counter with flagons of ale so they could slake their thirst.

"Knights," Manuela grumbled. She'd dated plenty and none had been man enough to handle her certain... habits. Manuela could cook; she was a physician and teacher at the Officer's Academy, so she could hold a steady job; she was witty and headstrong, and she could sing like a lark. Cleanliness just so happened to be the one inconsequential category in which she fell short.

Manuela wasn't even a bad date! She listened. Men loved that. She'd mastered the art of flirting so that she'd have them wrapped around her little finger—who did you think taught Dorothea everything she knew? And she _always_ waited for the third date before taking any partners home, like a respectable woman.

So why was she being punished with loneliness and a broken heart?

"Is this seat taken?" When Manuela looked over, scowling, a sandy blonde woman dressed in armour blinked at her. "Professor Manuela? I didn't recognize you for a moment there. Is everything okay?"

 _In other words, I look like crap,_ Manuela thought sourly.

She grunted in way of answer and Catherine sat next to her at the bar. She didn't know much about the lady knight beyond that she was staunchly loyal—not to the Church of Seiros, but to Rhea. Manuela eyed Catherine and saw she was waving to Jeralt and Alois, two familiar faces from the monastery. How had she missed them before? They were good, upstanding men and it was a shame neither was her type.

"Is everything okay?"

This was the first opportunity for her to spill her guts since getting here and Manuela wasn't about to miss it. She launched into her tirade.

The physician had been coming back with another date—a handsome, talented, funny young knight—and the night thus far had gone swimmingly. Not many of her dates got to this stage, but then he was very handsome and she was feeling particularly frisky.

Everything was fine until she opened the door to her room. The young man had paled and announced that he couldn't deal with the mess. Then, he had made a run for it. What a jerk.

"Some knight he is," she concluded with a heartfelt sigh.

Catherine listened and, well, Manuela liked that. There was no judgment in blue eyes while the older woman ranted and, more importantly, she didn't impede Manuela's drinking. At one point, she had even warded off a drunkard who'd marked Manuela as an easy target, twisting his arm behind his back with her drink still in her other hand. Her partner in crime, a Sniper by the name of Shamir, had appeared to remove the riffraff and the grateful barkeep had given them both a free round.

"Why can't you be a man?"

"Pardon?" Now there was amusement in blue orbs.

"Seriously," Manuela insisted, stumbling over the word. "You're gorgeous. If one of these cowards were even half as good looking, I'd already be married."

"Seems like you'd still be unhappy if your relationship was based on looks alone."

"Yeah..." Manuela sighed, slumping back over the counter, and Catherine patted her shoulder. "You're really nice, too."

"Mm." Catherine took a sip from her flagon. It was only her second versus Manuela's lost-count.

"And strong..." They didn't call her Thunder Catherine for nothing. 

"We're all strong in our own ways, Professor."

Manuela didn't even hear her. Her mind was abuzz with self pity and a booze-fueled epiphany. She gasped. "Oh my Goddess... you're perfect except you don't have a penis!"

Catherine blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You've got everything a woman could want: you're attractive, intelligent, confident, kind, and loyal. If only you were a man..."

"I think you've had enough." Catherine waved the barkeep over. She laid down a fat sack of coins and thanked him as his eyes went as wide as dinner plates. "I'm taking you home. I can't, in good conscience, leave you here by yourself in your condition."

 _Then she'll see your mess and leave you alone like all the others,_ a little voice in her head grumbled.

"I'd rather you didn't."

"I'm not asking." A firm grip on Manuela's upper arm encouraged her to stand, but it also created a curious little rush of excitement. She didn't mind being manhandled by Catherine—quite the opposite.

...

Manuela had made this walk of shame from the bar, to the monastery, across the courtyard and up to the second floor of the chapel countless times, but she'd never been lead. Catherine's grip, though firm, wasn't tight enough to actually hurt—rather it was meant to remind her who was in charge here. When Manuela stumbled, the knight was quick to steady her and ask if she was alright.

Just peachy, actually. Though her stomach was in knots for whatever reason and her hert hammered against the inside of her breast.

"We're almost there."

Had Catherine always been so shapely? One could tell even with the heavy clanking armour. The combination of sleek form and mane of tawny hair reminded Manuela of a lioness on the prowl. She wasn't sure why, but the thought of therefore being the prey made those stomach knots tighten.

When they went up stairs, Manuela was allowed to go first—likely because Catherine feared she'd lose her footing. She glanced over her shoulder once or twice and swore she caught blue eyes lingering on her backside. 

Once they were on even terrain, Catherine resumed the lead. She rested her hand on Manuela's lower back, propelling her forward, and the older woman swallowed hard when they stopped in front of her door.

"It was this one, wasn't it?"

 _Here we go again._ Manuela fumbled with her key and it took several tries before she managed to get the darn thing open. As the door swung inward, it revealed the piles of clothing, books, and odds and ends that covered every surface in a layer of clutter. Home, sweet home.

Catherine didn't even flinch. She sat Manuela down on the available half of desk chair and began piling things from the bed on the floor to make room. Then, she led Manuela over to the bed and began gently disrobing the older woman.

"Please try to lay on your side just in case you throw up."

"..."

"Professor Manuela? Are you still with me?"

"Maybe..." Manuela began slowly. "You don't need a penis."

Catherine's hands stilled. "Sorry?" 

She wasn't sure if it was the booze. She didn't know if it was the kindness of the other woman who had listened to her woes and ensured her safe return home. She didn't even know if it was the simple fact that Catherine had been the first knight to not run screaming from the mess that was her room. Whatever happened to be the driving force behind the sudden desire to kiss Catherine, Manuela's heart was in her throat as she leaned towards the blonde.

"... I don't think this is a good idea."

"I do."

That firm hand rested on her shoulder, keeping her in place. "You're drunk."

She hadn't said anything about not wanting to, Manuela noticed. That had to mean something... Right?

"I want you, Catherine. You're not like the others."

"You mean I'm not a man," the blonde deadpanned. She sighed and got up to sit next to the older woman. "I know your type. Your heart has been broken, so you try something new. What happens when the sun comes up tomorrow and you realize you hate what happened the night before?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Manuela muttered.

"Then you know exactly what I mean." Catherine rested her hand briefly on the crown of Manuela's head. "Goodnight, Professor."

Then, she was gone.

x.x.x

Manuela awakened the next morning with a hangover. No surprise there. She groaned and rolled onto her side, then cracked open an eye when she realized she could do so without kicking something off the side of her bed. What the hell had happened last night? She was pretty sure she'd gone home alone, but the neat pile of books and papers that had moved from the bed to the floor suggested otherwise.

She tried to remember, but her head hurt too much. Just how many drinks had she had anyway? 

***Knock, knock***

Who could that be now? Maybe if she ignored them, they'd go away.

Unfortunately, the noise only escalated. Whoever was on the opposite side of that door was persistent—annoyingly so. The incessant knocking made her temples throb and Manuela only just had the presence of mind to throw on a robe before flinging the door open. "What?"

Cyril, the little snot, frowned up at her. "It's after noon, you know."

"I can hear the clocktower just like anyone else, but thanks." Who the hell was he to judge? "It's my day off. What do you want?"

"Lady Catherine instructed me to make sure you were alive. Consider my work here complete." With one last pitying glance, he walked off.

Manuela scarcely noticed as her memory of the night before came rushing back.

She'd tried, and failed, to seduce Thunder Catherine. What had she been thinking? She hadn't and that was the problem. Manuela shut the door and returned to her bed and her self pity. Maybe if she stayed in her room long enough, the world would right itself.

...

The week went on, business as usual. No, that wasn't quite right. Everything was the same, at least outwardly, but Manuela found herself more aware of particular things. _Of particular people._

Dorothea, for example. She'd always been something of a tease, but now her flirting was strangely flattering. And that new professor, Byleth. Had she always been that fetching? Manuela could see why she was so popular amongst her students.

Even more strange was the way she immediately became frazzled the moment she saw Catherine around the monastery. It didn't happen frequently, mind you, and it was a good thing because Manuela wasn't sure her heart could handle it. The muscle had a propensity for skipping a beat any time the blonde beauty came into view and Manuela had found herself redirecting her path when she approached the lady knight's known haunts on more than one occasion. The physician felt childish afterwards, but she needed to sort out her inner turmoil before she made a fool of herself in front of Catherine again.

The other night kept replaying in her head—Catherine's kindness, especially. Manuela had never been taken care of like that before... not just as a drunk, but as a fellow woman. A lesser person would have pressed their advantage, but Catherine had protected Manuela from herself. It was commendable and above all it got Manuela thinking: would she really have regretted sleeping with such an upstanding human being?

The more she thought about it, the more certain she was that her drunken pass had come from the heart. Perhaps her luck, or lack thereof, with men had been a sign from the Goddess herself that Manuela was looking for love in the wrong place entirely. Sure, she wasn't one hundred perfect certain how two women even _did_ it but she knew someone who might be able to provide some insight on that...

x.x.x

Anna could be found hawking her wares near the entrance of the monastery, much like any of the other merchants sanctioned by the Church of Seiros. Their presence was meant to provide supplies and aid to students and knights alike who were going into combat at the monastery's behest, but a little birdy had told Manuela that the red-headed swordswoman also dealt in less combat-oriented wares.

It was with that in mind that the physician approached the young redhead. She almost felt guilty when Anna greeted her with a charming smile and immediately began to advertise her selection.

"Professor Byleth told me about your... Secret shop."

The redhead's eyes sparkled. "Ah, you're after the good stuff." She rapped sharply against the side of her stall and a panel fell open. "Ta-dah!"

Amidst a trove of high quality works of art and some other, less savory objects, Manuela spied a hand-bound tome. Its cover read: _'The Fairer Sexing: A Guide to Intimacy for the Modern Fódlan Woman'_ and she had to admit, her curiosity was piqued. The merchant followed her gaze and presented it to Manuela with a flourish.

"Is the title too on the nose?" Anna tapped her nose with her index finger and winked. "I'm open to suggestions before I begin mass printing these babies."

Manuela wasn't sure _what_ to think as she skimmed the text. She was a grown woman and some of the detailed pictorials managed to make her blush.

"You looking for something in particular?"

"I..." Manuela shook her head. "How much?"

"Can you put a price on blood, sweat, and tears?"

"Everything has a price."

"Wise woman," Anna chuckled. "It can be yours for the low, low price of 2000 gold."

Manuela grimaced. She should have known the little shyster would bleed her dry. It physically hurt her to hand over such a hefty sum, but then these sorts of references couldn't exactly be found in the library. She hugged the book to her chest, cover facing inward to conceal the title.

"Are you sure I can take your only copy?"

"The next one will be even better." Anna wiggled her eyebrows. "Just you wait."

x.x.x

It was late.

Manuela squirmed and pressed her thighs together. She'd gone through a lot of _'The Fairer Sexing'_ during the week and had learned, at least in theory, how two women could share intimacy. Coincidentally, her dreams the past few nights had been... _exciting_ to say the least—always featuring some gallant blonde knight who swept her off her feet and into a maelstrom of passion.

Manuela always woke up, as she had tonight, with aching loins and a wet heat suffusing the apex of her thighs. In the lingering heat of the dreamt moment she'd sometimes feverishly seek friction, cupping her sex and rutting against the heel of her palm until her good sense kicked in and she had to sneak off to the bathroom to wash her hands and splash cold water on her face. As a result, her laundry hamper was filling up with excitement-soaked underwear she hadn't gotten around to washing.

She was also getting testy in the classroom and the Golden Deer students had definitely noticed. Her short temper didn't effect just them, but her colleagues as well, and an unspoken agreement to tiptoe around the moody physician had been made by anyone who regularly interacted with her. 

Something had to give.

...

That weekend, Manuela found herself at the Bounding Elk Tavern again—only this time she was much more sober. She nursed her drink and every time the entry bell chimed, her stomach flip-flopped. She knew on good authority, after brow beating Seteth into sharing with her, that the Knights were coming home from a mission tonight. Odds were, that meant they'd make a pit stop here.

The bell chimed again and Manuela glanced over her shoulder, but didn't see blonde hair. She was starting to feel nauseated, what with all the nervous energy turning into butterflies. The barkeep set down a flagon next to her and the physician opened her mouth to turn it down, only to nearly jump out of her skin when a gloved hand grabbed it by the handle.

"Have you been avoiding me?" the very woman she'd been looking for asked. How had Manuela missed her?

"Th-that's silly." It sounded hollow in her own ears. "We're both busy women."

Catherine gave her a look, as though she had somehow witnessed every time Manuela had shyed away at the sight of armour and blonde hair during the week, but didn't comment. The blonde turned to walk away and, in her panic to keep the younger woman there, Manuela grabbed her arm. Catherine reacted out of reflex, snapping her arm upwards to break Manuela's grip and then twisting the physician's so that it forced her forward, her face pressed against the counter.

It all happened in the span of five seconds. Manuela barely heard Catherine swear over the pounding of her adrenaline-fueled heartbeat in her ears. Her arm smarted, even though the blonde had immediately released her grasp, as did the cheek that had met the counter. She counted herself lucky Catherine hasn't used more force as she imagined she'd be concussive by now.

They were the centre of attention until Catherine cast a fierce gaze around the room. She looked back at Manuela, concern knitting her brow. "Are you okay? I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking."

"It was my fault." Manuela waved her away, wincing when the motion sent a twinge of pain through her shoulder and wrist. "I'll live."

"Ice." The barkeep hustled off to follow the command and came back with a kitchen towel folded around ice cubes. Catherine placed it at the crook of Manuela's neck and shoulder. "Can I take you to the infirmary?"

"Seeing as I'd be the physician on duty, I don't see any point." Manuela reached for the drink with her good hand and downed it. She gestured for another, but Catherine dismissed the barkeep with a hard look. "Do you mind?"

"Actually, I do. You need to take care of this and I don't think drinking will help."

"Alcohol is an excellent painkiller, actually."

Catherine sighed. "If you come back to my place and let me bandage you up, you can drink as much as you like. It would make me feel better as the one responsible for your injury."

Manuela considered the offer. Those damnable butterflies were back at the thought of being in a more private setting with Catherine again. A quick Heal would fix her right up with only some lingering stiffness to contend with, but if Catherine wanted to play medic...

"Oh, very well."

x.x.x

Catherine's private quarters were so orderly, Manuela got the distinct feeling that if she was to measure the distance between objects she'd find some sort of symmetrical pattern. It was overwhelming in the exact opposite way her own room likely was and the physician hovered in the doorway.

"Have a seat."

There was a chaise lounge by the fireplace. Manuela perched herself on the edge of it while Catherine reignited the smouldering embers and cast a cheery glow over the room's contents. She went over to a low shelving unit and came back with a first aid kit. She removed the makeshift ice pack and her eyebrows drew together when she saw how red the area was.

"I didn't dislocate it, did I?"

Manuela gave her injuries a dispassionate glance. "It's a sprain at best. The swelling should go down soon."

"I'm truly sorry..."

Their faces were so close. Manuela wet her lips and her voice was husky when she asked, "What've you got to drink around here?"

...

"You're not going to let me drink alone, are you?" She tried her best pout, mindful that anything saucier would likely be rebuffed, and Catherine acquiesced.

Manuela watched the blonde grimace at the bitter taste and quickly refilled her flagon before the younger woman could protest. Perhaps a little liquid courage would loosen up the prim and proper knight...

An hour passed and then two. Manuela had downed a few more drinks and she felt pleasantly warm. She'd long since stopped serving the flushed Catherine, who was much more chatty in her present state than Manuela had ever seen her. It was cute.

Catherine didn't slur, her posture was still perfect, and blue eyes were heavy-lidded, but alert. She had, however, shed her armour in favour of a more comfortable t-shirt and linen shorts combination and Manuela was having difficulty looking anywhere else but tan legs. How the heck did she get the bronzed colour even all over like that?

"Pour me another."

Manuela waved the bottle. "All gone."

"Mm." Catherine got up from where she'd been sitting on the floor and went over to a kitchenette tucked behind a low partition. She came back with a bottle of liquor and Manuela's eyebrows rose. She wasn't about to turn down her hostess's hospitality, but that was some strong stuff.

"Wanna try a body shot?"

"A what?"

"Me an' Shamir picked it up last time we passed through Brigid." She laughed, her expression affectionate. "That girl can party."

The prickle of jealousy was unexpected and Manuela frowned despite herself. "Do you two party often?"

"Nah. This mission was particularly tough. We were just happy to be alive."

Now she felt foolish. "So what's a body shot?"

Catherine eyed her briefly. "That won't do. Move over."

Manuela did as she was told and the blonde laid down on the chaise. It was barely wide enough for Manuela to fit, perched on the edge as she ended up, but to have so much of Catherine's bare skin so close... The physician bit her lip.

Catherine handed her the bottle and pulled up her shirt to reveal the flat expanse of her stomach. Faded scars created a tapestry of hard fought battles and somewhat defined abdominal muscles spoke of rigorous training. Manuela immediately felt self conscious; all those drinks had given her a paunch and it was definitely a sore spot for the proud woman.

"Just pour a bit into my navel and drink," Catherine was saying. 

She couldn't have heard that right. But as she stared at the sculpted, envy-worthy body before her, the reality of the moment set in. Manuela uncapped the bottle and placed a hand on Catherine's hip to steady... The woman or herself? She wasn't sure. Catherine's skin was soft and smooth.

The blonde laughed softly. "I don't bite."

"And if I want you to?" The come-on slipped out before she could help it and Catherine's expression darkened. "Sorry. Ignore that."

Lifting the bottle made her wrist smart, but she powered through it in favour of tipping just a touch of liquid into Thunder Catherine's navel, as instructed. Then, she set it down, leaned over, and...

Catherine smelled good. Somehow, the alcohol tasted almost sweet after having been against her skin. She felt the shiver that ran the length of the blonde's body and, emboldened, kissed the spot under Catherine's navel, just above the hem of her shorts.

"Manuela." What was meant to be a warning came out as a purr and the physician nuzzled Catherine's tummy, her heart beating fast.

"May I?" She couldn't use her hand, what with her wrist the way it was, but there were other ways to please the blonde...

"I... don't think that's a good idea." 

"Don't think." She grinned. "At least not with your brain."

Catherine put her hands over her face and groaned. "We've been over this."

"I'm not drunk." Manuela dared to hook a finger under the waistband of the blonde's shorts, tugging them lower. She kissed the skin it revealed and heard a sharp intake of breath overhead. "I want you, Catherine."

"Goddess... What is it about this woman that robs me of my good sense?"

It was as close to a 'yes' as she was going to get at the moment and Manuela lost no time removing Catherine's shorts and settling between parted thighs. As a physician, she'd seen plenty of nether regions before, but never in this capacity and she found the strip of blonde curls above lips slightly swollen with arousal to be a welcoming sight. Slightly awed, the physician ran a finger along Catherine's outer labia, gathering wetness, and then stuck the tip of the digit in her mouth. While not terrible, it was definitely an acquired taste.

Pushing down her trepidation, Manuela leaned in and pressed a kiss to Catherine's mons. She could smell the musk of the blonde's excitement and it actually made her mouth water. Another couple of kisses and Catherine made an impatient sound, encouraging her to lick the blonde's sex directly. With a moan, Catherine sank her fingers into mousey brown locks. Manuela focused her attentions on the bundle of nerves at the top of the woman's slit, flicking her tongue with no real rhyme or reason until a slow circuit made Catherine shudder and cry out.

_Aha..._

Her confidence building, Manuela lapped circles around Catherine's clitoris. The soft, throaty sounds the blonde made sent wet heat pooling between the physician's thighs and they became increasingly frequent as pleasure built and threatened to spill over. There was only one problem: her tongue was beginning to tire. 

When she paused, just for a moment, Manuela was tugged into a sitting position.

"A for effort, Professor." 

Catherine kissed her then and their tongues danced passionately. It didn't take long for nimble fingers to undo the ties at the front of that tight green dress so that she could nuzzle the pale swells of Manuela's breasts. You could see the way rosy nipples stood at attention through the fabric and Catherine wasted no time tugging and pinching them until Manuela was shivering.

"Let's relocate to somewhere a bit more comfortable."

The blonde stood, stooping and easily sweeping Manuela into a bridal carry. She smiled at the older woman's surprised yelp and pressed a kiss to the side of Manuela's head.

"Oh my," Manuela giggled, charmed by the gesture. 

Catherine carried the older woman to the other side of the room and laid her down on her bed. She sat alongside Manuela as she reached beneath the hem of the green dress and Manuela gasped, her hips twitching to prolong the direct contact between Catherine's palm and her sex.

Blue eyes widened. "You're not wearing any—"

"Yes, and I'm sure there's a growing wet spot on the back of my dress,"Manuela said impatiently as she squirmed.

"It's not befitting of a knight to make a lady wait." Catherine's tone and expression were somber, but amusement glittered in blue eyes.

Manuela wasn't in the mood for jokes. She covered Catherine's hand with her own, applying pressure, and the blonde obediently slipped slender fingers into wet heat.

By the Goddess, the way she curved long digits made Manuela see stars. Catherine seemed to know all the spots that made the older woman tremble and mewl and she expertly altered her tempo to drive Manuela wild. It didn't take long before orgasm threatened to overtake the physician. Just a little more and—

Smirking wickedly, Catherine bit down on Manuela's good shoulder and the older woman she released stifled scream, her inner muscles clenching tightly as she reached climax. The blonde slowed her thrusts, easing Manuela down from the heights of pleasure.

"That... _Huff_... Wasn't fair..."

"Sorry." Catherine licked over the faint indents her teeth had left behind and Manuela gasped quietly. "I'll be gentler next time."

'Next time' proved to be right then and there—and well on into the night.

...

Manuela awakened the next morning without a hangover. Huh. She yawned and rolled onto her side, then cracked open an eye when she realized she'd elbowed her bedmate.

"Sorry, dear."

"Mm..." Catherine murmured, burying her face in Manuela's breasts.

She'd taken quite a liking to them if the chain of hickeys were anything to go by. Manuela wasn't going to be able to wear a low cut top for some time.

The clock tower chimed 6 times, signaling that it was still quite early and Manuela hunkered down under the covers, a huge grin spreading across her face when Catherine's arms circled possessively around her middle. She'd detangle herself and borrow a change of clothes later. This was the first time in years she hadn't woken up alone and, by the Goddess, she was going to enjoy it.


End file.
